


Ink Stains, Razor Blades, and High Notes

by eatreadwritesleep



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Child Abuse, Harry is kind of a mess, I'm so so so sorry, M/M, Punk!Direction, Punk!Louis, Self-Harm, Selfharm!Harry, They ARE brothers, They love each other, Trigger Warnings, Verbal Abuse, ain't nobody effin with their clique, and Louis loves him some Harry, and i'm at least 12 percent sure the music sung isn't punk rock, but loves him some Louis, he hates himself very very much, he's going through a lot, i'm so sorry for whatever this becomes, the boys are very protective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:44:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatreadwritesleep/pseuds/eatreadwritesleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is a sad mess of a boy who kind of thinks about dying all the time, stutters ferociously when nervous, sings very well but doesn’t think so, meets a band, sort of joins that band, falls in love with the short one with the nice butt and pretty blue eyes, deals with his “father’s” increasing violence towards him, collects tattoos, and writes this all down in a dingy brown diary filled with endless ink, morbid thoughts, and Louis’ name. No big deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some names and characters have been altered or changed, mostly for the fact that I have a very hard time portraying any of the boys’ actual family members as abusers, so I’d much rather create another character to fill that horrid role. I dunno, it just doesn’t sit well with me to write them that way.

If Harry was being honest, he thought about death a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like almost all the time. Seriously…a lot. Like he’d be sitting in class with a pencil in his hand and he’d wonder how fast he would bleed out if he rammed it through his throat. Or when he had the window seat in English on the second floor, if he would survive jumping out of it. Or if he just threw himself down the stairs, maybe his neck would break…no…hopefully his neck would break.

 

Harry sighed from where he sat huddled under the bleachers, trembling and gasping for breath-his blade was in his bag-crying a bit, no a lot, crying a lot-15 seconds and it would be in his hands-mind spinning, whirling, dizzy-just a small cut would do, just to catch his breath, just a little one, he’d promise, he’d swear, he’d…

 

…

 

For someone as morbid as he was, his day had started off relatively well. He woke up, showered, ate breakfast, and was out the door in good time. He hadn’t gotten any new texts, which was a little weird but it didn’t bug him much, he’d see his friends at school.

 

He walked, which was dumb but he preferred it that way instead of being chauffeured. It was…annoying. The sun was shining, the walk was pleasant though long, and he made it to school with a few minutes to spare.

 

That changed when he walked into school though. The halls went quiet, and people stopped and stared at him. Harry frowned, and placed his hands in his pockets, hands sweating at the attention.

 

A boy he recognized walked up to him, his expression showing a deep loathing that had Harry take a nervous step back.

 

“Faggot.” the boy said, and Harry’s world stopped.  

 

“He’s a faggot.”

 

“Is that Styles over there? I heard he’s a freakin queer.”

 

“I have class with him, oh my God that’s so gross.”

 

Harry swallowed thickly, before quickly making his way out of the hallway, away from accusing stares and cruel words and-

 

Harry yelped as he was shoved to the floor, face smacking the tile harshly. People laughed around him and he quickly stood up, face burning, running to the back of the school through another door, out to the bleachers.

 

From there, he stat down and tried to think of exactly what was happening, why it was happening, how they even found out, the quickest way to die…

 

No.

 

He took out his phone and texted his friends, because he had only told them, finally told them he was bi, just yesterday, and maybe this was just a rumor that got out or something but he just really really needed to talk to his friends. They’d know how to help him.

 

But none of them answered. Why weren’t they answering? Were they at school yet? Or maybe they were getting hate because they were his friends. They were friends with the gay kid. They might be in trouble.

 

He, he had to die-no-no-he had to…he had to go to them. Right, find them. Find his friends. They’d know what to do. They could help him. He didn’t need his blades.

 

He managed to stagger to his feet, and stumbled back into the building. His peers passed in a daze, jaunts and jeers and laughter floating past him ignore them still stinging ignore ignore ignore still hurting and so mean, so mean, he didn’t do anything wrong, please leave him alone, ignore, where were his friends!?

 

And then he spotted them, by Jim’s locker. He shuffled towards them, Trish locking eyes with him and whispering, before they all turned toward him.

 

“Harry.” spoke Matt, and his voice was dull, and weird. Not jovial, like normal.

 

Harry stopped about a foot in front of them. He normally stood closer, but…this…this was…

 

“Harry…yesterday, when you told us…we um…” started Trish, and Harry’s eyes went to hers, surveying the frown her face, and the way she bit her lip.

 

“What Trish is saying…” Jim mumbled, before trailing off, and they both looked to Matt.

 

“Ugh, God. What they’re saying…what we’re all saying is…Harry, we can’t hang out anymore.”

 

Please don’t say that. Please don’t. Please.

 

“W-why?” asked Harry, wiping his sweaty palms on the end of his uniform blazer.

 

“You know why Harry. We…we didn’t expect you to tell us that yesterday, you know. You sprung it on us. We…we had sleep over’s, man. We shared a bed sometimes. And for all I know, you could have been thinking of sticking your dick up my ass or something and that’s just so freaking weird, man. I’m…it’s not…we can’t do this. I’m sorry, because you seemed to cool, and you always bought us stuff and that was pretty awesome. But like…you being rich and getting us things, and like…being pretty cool, is not worth my safety, and Jim’s safety, and I don’t want you to mess Trish up either. That gay kissing stuff transfers.”

 

Harry blinked, and no, he wouldn’t cry in front of them, he wouldn’t, don’t cry, don’t you dare cry, breath, breath in, breath out, die, no, stop, don’t, breath…

 

“Okay.” Harry rasped out, before he turned and walked out of the school. Somehow, even with him breathing way too fast and eyes blurry with tears, he made his way back home.

.

.

.

 

James, as usual, greeted him by the door.

 

“Welcome back young sir, might I inquire as to why you’re hom-sir, are you…are you alright?”

 

Harry barely managed to focus his bleary eyes on James.

 

Was he alright? Kind of…not.

 

He opened his mouth to get something out but that didn’t really work, so instead he shrugged his shoulders and stumbled up the endless stairs and down forever hallways until he finally managed to make it to his room, shutting the door behind him and flopping down onto his bed.

 

He could call Gemma.

 

But she was probably busy, studying for classes and exams and he really didn’t want to bother.

 

He could maybe text his mum, but she’s been so happy and he didn’t need to bring her down with his crap.

 

He could slit his wrist and watch himself bleed out on his bathroom tile, but it wouldn’t be fair to the maids for them to have to clean that up.

 

Harry mustered up the energy to pull off most of his clothes before reaching under his pillow for his diary, opening up to a fresh page, and grabbing a pen form his bag.

 

~

_Everybody found out that I was bi, and my friends don’t want to hang out with me anymore, and I have no one to talk to anymore, and I still want to die a lot, and this is a really long sentence but so many things are going wrong so fast and I don’t know what to do._

_I can’t go back to school. They’re being so mean to me, and I don’t want to see their disgust or their hate._

_I just want my friends to like me again._

_Am I really that gross?_

_~_

He tossed the pen off his bed before shutting the book and clutching it to his chest.

 

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry.

 

He would…bleed. He would. That would help a little. Just a little.

 

So he sat up in bed and walked into his bathroom, turning on the light and grabbing a bottle of painkillers, where he kept his blades hidden. Pouring one out into his hand, he tapped the blade against his skin carefully, trying to decide where to do this.

 

For the millionth time.

 

Glancing at his arm, he looked at the many scars there and decided against it, instead suddenly dragging the blade lightly against his stomach. He watched the thin line turn dark red before little bubbles of blood pooled up and out of the wound. It trailed down slowly, tinting the edge of his boxers red, and Harry gasped and shuddered, sinking down onto the floor, wondering how the hell this became his life, that he could sit here and hurt himself like this.

.

.

.

 

‘Harry love, I’m out with some of the kitchen staff going shopping for our going away party.’

 

Harry frowned, angling his phone better.

 

“Mum, what going away party?”

 

‘Oh, oops. Well, Dad should be home soon, so it’s just you too for dinner. He’ll explain-we can always go with steak, and what would be a nice vegan option, for the Smiths-Harry, I’ll be home a bit later. Love you.’

 

The call cut off and Harry stared at his phone, puzzled, before continuing to towel off from his shower. He avoided the angry red mark on his stomach, trying not to agitate it even more.

 

He needed a bandage.

 

He searched through the bottom of his bathroom drawer, pulling out a box of bandages and some antiseptic cream. He grabbed his towel, wetting it a bit, dabbing at his new wound, before rubbing some of the cream on it, and gently applying the bandage. When that was all said and done, he threw on an old jumper and some sweats before heading down to dining room.

 

True to his mother’s word, his step-father had just arrived, seating himself at the table. Harry chose the seat all the way at the opposite side of it, so that there was more than enough space between them.

 

Damian Bollier and Harry Styles sat silently as James filled Damian’s wine glass, before two other house workers came and placed their dinners before them. They lifted the silver cloche off of their plates, before exiting the dining room. A well done tenderloin steak, served with white rice and a side of steamed veggies.

 

Lovely.

 

Tate dug in, and Harry picked at his plate. The only sound in the room was the clattering of their silverware.

 

“Morgan Johnson tells me you’re a faggot.” Damian suddenly said.

 

Harry swallowed a half chewed piece of steak, struggling not to choke, instead shakily grabbing his glass of water and chugging it town. He brought his trembling hands to his lap, keeping his eye on his plate.

 

“Oh.” he mumbled.

 

“Oh?” Damian repeated. He took his wine glass, swirling the contents inside before taking a small sip, and delicately placing it back on the table.

 

“Is there any truth to that?” he asked, and Harry bit his lip.

 

“I…I um…I l-like girls. And…um…and boys.” Harry stuttered out.

 

Damian glanced up at him, placing his forkful of rice back on his plate.  “I see.” he mumbled.

 

Harry trembled under Damian’s gaze.

 

“Frankly, Harry…it’s a little…disgusting. And embarrassing. Does your sister know?”

 

Leave Gemma out of this.

 

“Um…n-no.”

 

“And your mother?”

 

Harry shook his head.

 

“Use your words, Harry. If you’re man enough to take another’s dick up your ass, you should be man enough for this conversation.” Damian reprimanded, and Harry flinched.

 

“No…n-no my mom d-doesn’t know.” he murmured.

 

Damian sighed dramatically. “Well, in terms of everyone knowing, I guess it works out for you that we’re moving next week. Business matters.”

 

That…was actually really good, no, great to hear.

 

But then Damian smirked.

 

“But you’re still going to school.”

 

Harry’s shoulders slumped.

 

“Yes, I’m sure your little feelings are hurt because the school now hates you, as they should, because you know, you’re gay-

 

“Bi.” Harry corrected, without thinking.

 

Damian slammed the table. “Don’t. Ever. Interrupt me.”

 

Harry literally felt himself shrink.

 

“As I was saying, a little bullying might be good for you. Get you back into the right state of mind. You can endure.”

 

Tate checked his watch.

 

“James? I’m done here.”

 

James appeared like he normally did, along with the two from before, gathering Damian's dishes. When they left, Damian walked over to Harry, gently taking his chin into his hand, raising Harry’s head to look at him. Harry resisted slightly, until Damian’s grip on his chin tightened, and Harry bit his lip in defeat, allowing Damian to maneuver him. Damian stared down at Harry with a smile.

 

“You’re a good kid Harry. I just want what’s best for you, alright?”

 

He released Harry’s chin and walked off, leaving Harry alone in the dining room. Harry stared dully at his plate, whatever little appetite he’d had gone now.

 

“Young sir?”

 

Harry looked over at James, before silently gathering his plate and glass, ignoring James’ request to take them. Instead, he shuffled into the busy kitchen, smiling shyly at the staff as he emptied his plate and washed everything he used. James dried them.

 

“Are you alright?” James asked softly.

 

“Yea.” Harry lied.

 

When he finished, he walked out, but not before being bombarded with little pastries and candy. As crappy as he felt, their care for him gave him a little warm feeling he’d try his best to cherish.

.

.

.

 

His locker was trashed, the insides filled with spoiled milk and eggs. His gym clothes were cut up, and somebody peed in his sneakers. He got tripped, punched, kicked, slapped, and spit on. He was held down while they stuck drawings of dicks to his face. Some of the jocks pretended to dry hump him for fun, made him sit on their laps, and groped him to get any sort of reaction. His ipod was flushed. He was dragged by his hair from one end of the hall to the next. A girl shoved her tits in his face to ‘make him straight again’. His friends, or ex friends, didn’t say anything. Teachers were ‘never around’, which wasn’t really surprising. Most of the students came from money, not the staff, and nobody wanted to be the one to deal with rich parents.

 

Harry never said anything.

 

He just endured it.

 

Except that one time when he tried to drown himself in his tub.

.

.

.

 

The move was relatively easy. They were a few hours away, and the house(mansion) was bigger, and prettier. His new room was huge, and he spent the day more occupied on settling in and hanging up his posters and less on suicide.

 

His mum told him about his new school.

 

“It’s public, and you don’t have to wear a uniform. Isn’t that exciting, love?”

 

He guessed that was pretty cool. The chance to wear his own clothes. He helped the movers arrange Gemma’s room in a way he knew she’d like it. She owed him when she came to visit.

 

The next day, he decided to venture out into the towns, see what was around. James drove him, and Harry got out, wanting to walk a little on his own. The first thing he did was buy a new ipod. That settled, he went into a few clothing stores, grabbing odd print t-shirts and too tight jeans. He walked into a rather expensive looking shoe store, and watched the employees eye his simple black shirt, ripped jeans, and ancient converse in disdain.

 

He blushed a deep red a shuffled around, ever mindful of their stares. Trembling, Harry clumsily grabbed a pair of brown boots, and a pair of black boots, and an employee wordlessly took them grabbed the size as he stuttered and mumbled embarrassedly.

 

At the cashier, an older man sneered down at him.

 

“This isn’t any type of joke, is it? We don’t have time for games, young man.”

 

Harry gulped. “Erm, I…I-I know I just um…I like the boots, so erm, I…”

 

The man rolled his eyes. “The total comes to $8500. Cash or credit.” he interrupted.

 

Harry flinched. “C-credit.”

 

The man’s eyes widened as Harry clumsily pulled out one of his many cards, the black one. The man’s eyes widened even more. Almost all the other employees were watching with similar expressions as Harry finished his purchase and stumbled out, heart pounding.

 

He shakily walked to where he saw the car parked, James walking out to help him load up his bags.

 

“Everything alright, young sir?” he asked, and Harry nodded, tripping over his feet as he entered the back seat, blushing and looking down at his lap.

 

James started to drive off, and Harry looked at the passing stores, people, cars, pets. And then a store caught his attention, literally called, Music and Stuff.

 

“James, can you stop please? Near um, Music and Stuff.”

 

“Certainly, young sir.”

 

When James found a spot to safely pull over, Harry exited and headed into the store. It was…a mess really. Stacks upon stacks of records, everywhere, cd’s, vintage music posters. But it was cozy, and…oddly comforting, to be surrounded by music. Towards the back were different instruments. Harry found himself wandering, thoughts interrupted by a delicate voice.

 

“Can I help you with anything?”

 

Harry jumped, turning to see a petite brunette with bright brown eyes and rosy cheeks. She wore a floral dress with old converse.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you alright?”

 

Harry blushed.

 

“Yea…” he mumbled.

 

She smiled.

 

“Okay, well, I’m about to go on a quick lunch grab. I’m Eleanor, by the way. Louis is somewhere in the back room. Hold on. Lou! I’m heading out real quick! You want anything?”

 

“Dick!” came a voice from the back, muffled from the distance.

 

Harry’s cheeks burned red, and Eleanor laughed loudly.

 

“No, you freak! To eat!”

 

“Dick!” came the same voice, and Harry bit back a smile, busying himself at looking at a random record.

 

“Can’t help you with that, sorry! I’m headed to the diner though!”

 

“Cheeseburger and fries, no onions. And a vanilla milkshake babe!”

 

“Sure! And we have a customer!”

 

There was a sound of something clattering, and a small screech, and a very loud curse, before footsteps sounded, coming closer and closer. Harry looked up curiously, only to freeze. A boy, shorter than him, rounded the corner and literally took his breath away. Red hair hanging in a cute fringe, an 2 brow piercings, a nose ring, and…the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen. The boy, was his name Lou or Louis, had on a tank top with a large middle finger in the middle, impossibly tight jeans rolled up above the ankles, and two different pairs of vans, black and white.

 

Louis surveyed Harry before glancing at Eleanor with a smirk.

 

“Earth to customer…”

 

Harry blinked out of his trance and almost melted with the heat radiating off his cheeks.

 

“I’m Louis.” said the beautiful boy. “Add bacon to that burger for me.” Louis told Eleanor, who smiled before heading off, leaving the two of them alone.

 

“So, what brings you here…”

 

“H-Harry.” Harry blurted out, biting his lip and fisting his hands in his shirt. Louis glanced down at Harry’s trembling hands but didn’t say anything about it, instead walking away,  and holy crap his _ass_ …and the way his jeans fought to keep something so magnificently robust tamed… Louis’ fingers scanned the rows and rows of records before picking one randomly.

 

“Do you have a record player or should I grab a cd instead?”

 

“Oh, um, yea.”

 

Louis raised his eyebrow.

 

“Record player.” Harry clarified.

 

“Oh, well, great. Here. Random record, free of charge. It’s a first time customer thing.” Louis said, smiling, before walking over to the register and hoping on the counter.

 

Harry lingered nervously, wondering if he should walk over to join him or if it would be weird to suddenly perch yourself next to a stranger, or if he should just leave, or if it was rude to leave with a free record and not buy anything, or-

 

“It’s pretty lonely over here, up on this counter by myself.” Louis sighed, swinging his legs.

 

Harry froze, before walking over to the counter, carefully pulling himself up, keeping a good amount of distance between them. Louis leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and Harry found himself watching, the way he breathed, the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his blue eyes looked back, intense, which meant Harry was also being watched…

 

Harry quickly averted his gaze.

 

Louis hopped off the counter, walking around it to grab what Harry assumed to be his phone. He messed around with it for a bit before putting it to his ear.

 

“Hey Z, is your mum making curry tonight? Good, I’m coming over after work. My shift ends in like 5 hours. Oh please, don’t act all offended that I assert myself into every nook and cranny of your miserable existence, because you’re nothing without me and you know it. Language, mister, how very dare you!?”

 

Louis laughed loudly, and Harry peeked at a tongue piercing as well. This Louis was extremely animated, the way he twitched and stood on his toes and was always constantly moving as he spoke.

 

“See you later. Love you too.”

 

Louis placed his phone back on the counter, before suddenly turning to Harry, marching up close.

 

Harry held his breath.

 

“You, Harold, have very pretty green eyes.”

 

Harry blushed.

 

“It’s…Harry. It’s not short for anything.” Harry said.

 

Louis hm’d, stepping back to grab a random box and place them on the counter to sort through. Harry decided he should probably go, getting off the counter, but his foot slid on a falling record case and he fell, knocking over a box full of cds on his way down.

 

Nonononono.

 

“Harry, sorry mate, I should have-

 

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry-

 

“Hey, it’s oka-

 

Harry scrambled to put everything back, before he grabbed his gift and was out the door in record time.

 

“Wait, Harry!”

 

Harry ignored him, stumbling into the car where James was waiting.

 

“Drive drive drive, please drive.” he gasped out, and James quickly pulled out into the road.

 

Harry watched Louis from his tinted window, who was standing by the front door of the shop wide-eyed, turn smaller and smaller as they drove further and further away.

.

.

.

 

The record he was given was called Pala by the Friendly Fires.

 

It was amazing.

.

.

.

 

_I met a boy named Louis at a record store. I think he was the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. He had such bright blue eyes, and the most amazing arse._

_It would have been nice if I were normal enough to be his friend, but I’m so clumsy and stupid, and I knocked over a bunch of stuff like the screw up I am._

_He called me Harold. I told him to call me Harry. Either way, whenever he called me, my heart would pound._

_If I never met him again, I think I’d be okay with it, because that one time will stay in my memory forever._

_Louis with the pretty blue eyes and amazing arse._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_~_

_If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it count as a sound?_

_I saw that in a psych class a while back._

_And_

_I guess not, since a sound is something that is heard, and if no one is there, then…..yea._

_So is that why nobody hears me when I cry, or sees how sad I am?_

_Because I’m alone?_

 

~

 

It’s been three days since the record store disaster. Harry spent the better part of those days tucked away in his room. He uploaded all his songs onto his new ipod, and added some new ones. He danced around to the record Louis had given him. He thought about Louis a lot. His eyes. His arse. He’d sat on the ledge of his window, wondering how it’d feel to take the jump.

 

Not a bad few days.

 

But now it was Monday morning, his mum deciding it’d be nice to start off school at the beginning of the week. Things would be more ‘settled’. It was seven o’clock, and he really had to start getting ready, but instead he was still in bed, propped up on his pillows. His journal was in his lap.

 

~

_I start my new school today._

_My writing is wobbly because my hands are trembling._

_I packed my blades in my bag last night. I actually have a plan. I’m going to spend my lunch breaks mapping out all the places that are normally empty, so I have places to hide for when things inevitably go to hell._

_Seems like a good idea, right?_ _  
_

~

 

Harry sighed, closing the book and placing it under his pillow, before lying back and closing his eyes. A knock sounded at his door.

 

“Young sir? May I come in?” came James’ voice.

 

“Um, yea, sure.” Harry replied, and James opened the door quietly, balancing the tray in his hands.

 

Harry frowned. “Do you need any help?”

 

“Oh no, thank you.”

 

James skillfully shut the door with his foot.

 

“I brought you some breakfast. Toast, eggs, bacon, and tea.”

 

Harry fumbled with his hands. “Erm, what’s the special occasion?” he asked softly.

 

“I don’t need a special occasion to spoil you.” James said with a smile, before adding, “Your stepfather has stayed for breakfast. I figured it would be nice to start your first day of school in a good mood.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened comically, and James sent another small smile his way, carefully setting the tray of Harry’s lap. Harry peered at the food, before stuttering out an embarrassed thanks to James and digging in.

 

He bit into his toast, mindful of any crumbs, as he’d hate for whoever came to clean his room to have a hard time.

 

It’d been a horrendous experience when he’d jizzed his sheets and got caught trying to sneak them to the laundry room.

 

Thank God the family had all been away. He hadn’t left his room for two days. He ate unconsciously as he got lost in his thoughts, and before long, James was removing his empty tray.

 

Even the tea was done.

 

He slipped his hand under his pillow, checking again to make sure his journal was still there, before sliding out of the bed. He awkwardly shuffled around his room, grabbing some things before James made his exit. As soon as the door was shut, he straightened himself out and walked around more comfortably, now that he was alone.

 

He grabbed his ipod, putting it on shuffle and placing it on the dock. The speakers blared to life and the sound of The 1975’s Settle Down began to play.

 

Harry smiled, dancing around his room to the beat of the music as he tossed some clothes on his bed.

 

“For crying out loud, settle down…” he sang along, mind drifting to Matty Healy.

 

He’d settle down alright…on that dick. If he could, he’d suck him so hard Healy would look like a mummified corpse. But if Matty liked guys, he’d probably only go for pretty ones. Ones that are happy and want to live.

 

It was a sobering thought. Harry turned off the music and walked into the bathroom. A scalding shower would do the trick.

.

.

.

 

“Oh, my darling boy.”

 

Harry leaned into his mother’s embrace, sighing softly as she ran her hands through his hair.

 

“You must be nervous.” she mumbled, and Harry forced a smile…more like a grimace.

 

He was nervous all the time. This? What he was feeling right now? Terror. He wished he felt nervous. He’d take nervous over this.

 

“A new school. So exciting love. Hopefully you’ll make some new friends. What happened to the others, from our old town. They were such a nice group…”

 

Harry shrugged, and Anne sighed.

 

“Oh well. New town, new beginnings, right?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Di you eat already?”

 

“Erm, yea. J-James brought something up.”

 

Anne’s eyebrows rose. “Breakfast in bed hm? Lovely treat.”

 

Harry nodded, and he looked down at his Converse, at the little scuff marks, and shredding laces. Suddenly a hand was in his.

 

He looked up to see Anne staring at him.

 

“Mum?” he asked, biting his lip.

 

“Harry…” she hesistated, before continuing, “Harry love. Are you alright?”

 

He just stared.

 

“It’s…I know I’ve been really busy lately. We haven’t sat down and had a proper talk in ages. You seem…different. I…are you alright?”

 

Well, mum, since you’re asking, he wondered what it would be like to die in a fire, but figured that would be too painful. Then he thought about drowning. H actually think about drowning more. But that’s also very painful. He knows. He’s tried. But then he thought, he’s too much of a punk for fire, too much a punk to sit in a tub of water and pull a weight on top of him, why doesn’t he just turn the shower to the hottest it can go and get a bit of both worlds?

 

“I’m fine mum. I’m gonna…I’m gonna go.”

 

Anne surveyed him for a moment, before nodding, squeezing his hand.

 

“Okay baby. I might be home late tonight. I’m going to a brunch, and you know how we end up talking for ages at those things. Love you.”

 

She squeezed his hand before walking off.

 

He wished she would stay. He wished he could stay too. He wished that she would stop all the socializing for a moment and stop loving Tate so much and look at him, only him, because he was selfish and stupid and sad and maybe hugs and cuddles in bed and late night talks like they used to have could help him feel a little better.

 

But she was happy, and Harry refused to be a burden.

 

 

Sad people were always a burden.

 

“Love you too, mummy.”

.

.

.

 

 

“You can exit whenever you wish, young sir. Take your time.”

 

Harry stayed seated in the car, staring intently at his hands in his lap rather than surveying the world around him. He took care in taking deep, even breaths. He didn’t want to go in. He didn’t want to go in. He didn’t want to go in.

 

People would stare at him. He’s the new kid. It’s inevitable. They’d stare, and they’d ask questions, and he would have to answer, or else they’d think he was a freak, and he wouldn’t get his words out right, so regardless, they’d think he was a freak.

 

Freaks are faggots. Freaks get dragged down hallways and spit on and laughed at and Harry is a freak, but he had to keep it a secret.

 

How would he keep it a secret?

 

There was a knock on the window, and James rolled it down. A man, rather buff looking, was standing there, frowning. James frowned in return.

 

“Can I-

 

“What is your purpose here?” The man interrupted, in a strong Irish accent.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“I work security. Big black SUV, tinted windows. Your car’s been out here for over ten minutes. This is a school, and in the interest of the students, I’d rather you didn’t loiter mate.”

 

The man then caught sight of Harry in the back seat.

 

“Oh, no, I’m just here to drop of Mr. Styles. It’s his first day. Young sir?”

 

The man standing outside of the car looked confused at the title. Harry glanced up, and met James’ eyes in the rearview mirror. James smiled softly at him, and that gave Harry a tiny push he needed.

 

“Oh, sorry then.” said the man, and Harry exited the car, grabbing his bag.

 

Harry opened his mouth to say bye but his voice caught in his throat, so instead he opted for a meek wave.

 

“You can come in with me then.” The man said, and Harry nodded, wishing he’d worn a hoodie so he could hide his shaking hands.

 

 

James drove off, and Harry bit his lip nervously.

 

“I’m Paul, by the way. Head of security here. You’re young sir?”

 

Harry blushed.

 

“Erm, H-Harry Styles. He’s um…he…my family is erm, we have, we-” Harry mumbled.

 

Paul smiled, looking a lot less intimidating than a moment ago.

 

“Don’t stress kid. I’m messing with you.”

 

Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say.

 

“Well then, Styles, let’s get you to the main office. Get you situated.” Paul said, and they headed inside.

 

The building was huge, and it seemed that James had gotten him early enough that the hall was still filled with students hanging out before class.

 

Which kind of sucked.

 

Eyes were immediately on him, and he kept his gaze on Paul’s back. If he looked around, he’d probably throw up. It took a bit, because the school was freaking huge and the hallways were freaking packed, but they finally made it to the main office.

 

Harry followed Paul up to the head secretary’s desk. The woman looked up, smiling at Paul.

 

“What can I do for you, Pauly?” she asked, and Paul rolled his eyes.

 

“New kid, Jen. Name’s Harry Styles.”

 

Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, good. I have your things right here. You’ll need to come in after school to take an ID picture, but other than that, here’s your schedule. Welcome. At least here, you don’t have to wear a uniform, yea?” Jen said, sending a soft smile Harry’s way.

 

He blushed, gingerly taking the paper from her.

 

“This school’s pretty big, and I need to get back on duty. Take a  seat over there and-

 

“For God’s sake, Malik, take that cigarette out of your mouth!”

 

Everyone’s head turned in the direction of the principal’s office. Paul sighed, and Jen laughed.

 

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but the shouting continued.

 

“Get out of my office!”

 

A moment later, the door opened and Harry was startled to watch possibly one of the most beautiful boys he’d ever seen or will see of all time walk out of the office.

 

“Much obliged, sir.” the boy said with a smirk, taking the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and placing it behind his ear, only for Paul to snatch it.

 

“Zayn, why are you and your buddies always here.”

 

His name was Zayn. That name sounded familiar.

 

Zayn pouted, before a smirk appeared on his face when he recognized Paul.

 

“Paul.” he said happily, the name long and drawn out as he went in for a hug.

 

“No kiddo.” Paul then looked at Harry who was standing and watching, awkwardly nearby. “I’ve got a job for you.” he said.

 

Zayn finally noticed Harry. He looked him up and down, slowly. Harry felt himself grow warm. The bell rang.

 

“This is Harry. New here. You’re going to walk him to class.”

 

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Really? Babysitting?”

 

Paul mock glared at him. “Oh, pardon me mate. Didn’t know you were busy. Headed to class then?”

 

Zayn frowned. “I actually was this time Pauly. Promise.”

 

“Yea, well, you picked a fine time to do so. Now get out.”

 

“Can I at least get a pass.”

 

Paul looked shocked. “Oh, you were going to go to class AND go on time. Me heart can’t take it.”

 

Zayn sighed, dragging his feet, his patent white leather Docs leaving marks on the white tile. He walked passed Harry toward the door. Harry watched, before Zayn turned and glared.

 

“You coming or not?” he asked, and Harry jumped, stumbling after him. Zayn held his hand out, looking at the schedule Harry had, and Harry quickly gave it to him, before Zayn continued walking.

 

Harry matched Zayn’s pace. The two walked in silence in the now empty hallway, aside from a few stragglers.

 

“Nirvana huh?” Zayn asked suddenly, and Harry’s steps faltered.

 

“Huh?” he asked, looking quickly at Zayn but finding his gaze too intimidating.

 

“Your shirt, kid.” Zayn said, gesturing to the white shirt with Nirvana written in bold black letters visible from his unzipped hoodie.

 

“Name one song beside Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Zayn continued.

 

 

“M-marigold is, um, I um, it’s nice.”

 

Zayn stared at him for a moment, before nodding.

 

“Yea, I like that one too.”

 

Harry bit his lip, taking a deep breath, before asking, “B-but would it matter if I didn’t k-know another song?”

 

He quickly looked down at his converse, the swaying of the black and red flannel tied around his waist appearing in the edges of his vision.

 

Zayn let out a small giggle, which startled Harry.

 

“No, it wouldn’t. One song is all it takes to love a band. I just wanted to know if you knew anything else mate.”

 

Harry looked up and was met with a smile. He didn’t expect that.

 

“I’m Zayn Malik. You’re Harry?”

 

Harry nodded. “S-styles.” he mumbled.

 

“Harry Styles. Catchy.”

 

Harry blushed, looking down at his feet. They walked in silence, and then Zayn stopped suddenly. Harry stopped as well, looking up. They were in front of a classroom.

 

“This is your stop mate.” Zayn said, before turning and walking off.

 

Harry paled, watching him leave. The door was closed, and class was in session. He didn’t want to go in alone. He didn’t want everyone to look up and stare at him. He didn’t want to walk in between desks to find a seat. What if there were no seats at the back? He couldn’t sit up front, with everyone staring at the back of his head.

 

“This is the part where you knock.”

 

Harry jumped, turning to see Zayn leaning against one of the lockers next to the classroom. When had he come back? How long had he been standing there?

 

Zayn watched him for a moment, before suddenly moving and opening the door. Every eye turned to them, and Harry shrank under their gazes before Zayn grabbed his wrist and carefully pulled him in.

 

The teacher opened her mouth to speak before Zayn cut her off.

 

“This here is Harry Styles. He’s new, and, there’s a seat in the back near the window, all yours.”

 

He gave Harry a soft shove, and Harry didn’t know how Zayn got it, but he was so grateful, and then angry at himself because he was too nervous to thank him, so he just stared at his designation and walked, forcing himself to just walk, one foot in front of the other, their not staring at you, really, so you don’t have to stare back, it’s okay, the seat is right there, really close, don’t trip, if you trip, you’ll never come back here again, you’ll have to drop out of school, so don’t trip, and there, you’re here, it’s fine.

 

He sat down, and stared down at the doodles on the desk.

 

“Ta.” said Zayn, smilng at the teacher before walking out, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Alright, since your buddy barged in and introduced you, we’ll skip all that. Now, eyes up here, back to the lesson.”

 

Harry took out a blank notebook, lightly following along. After a bit of time passed, he managed to gather his wits and glance around the classroom. From looking around, he guessed there were around twenty five kids in the classroom. A few people glanced his way and he quickly averted his gaze, instead looking to stare out the window. He gazed at the sky.

 

When he died, would he go up?

 

Or down?

 

.

.

.

 

Zayn wandered off, thinking about Harry, before he walked into his class. The teacher rolled his eyes.

 

“You’re late, Malik.”

 

“I noticed.” Zayn replied, glancing towards the back of the class.

 

Ignoring Zayn’s attitude, the teacher continued, “Lucky for you, Mr. Higgins called and told me you were busy under his orders. Just sit down and try not to cause a ruckus with the rest of your ruffian friends.”

 

He didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked to the back, were two of his best friends, Niall and Louis, were waiting for him.

 

“Zen!” yelled Niall, before he wilted under the teacher’s glare.

 

Zayn smile, plopping into a seat between them. Louis had his head down on his desk, snoring slightly. Zayn motioned to Louis, Niall smiled

 

“His mum worked late and the twins were sick last night.” answered Niall, and Zayn nodded, and carefully reached over to ruffle Louis’ hair softly. Louis huffed quietly, shifting and sitting up, yawning. He blinked tiredly at Zayn.

 

“Zen.” he called softly, moving over to sit on Zayn’s lap, cuddling.

 

“Hi Lou. You alright?” he asked softly.

 

“Tired.” Louis mumbled.

 

Niall hummed softly, running a hand through his hair, the top lilac, fading to blond, and brown down at the roots. It was interesting.

 

“I think your boy toy is here.”

 

Louis fixed his position in Zayn’s lap, straddling him and leaning back against the desk.

 

“Mr. Tomlinson, this is hardly appropriate.” their teacher complained, and Louis turned around, sending a smirk his way.

 

“Don’t worry Mr.Calwith. He’s not even hard.”

 

The classroom burst into a flurry of giggles, and Mr. Calwith glared, before going on, because why did he even bother?

 

Louis turned back to Zayn.

 

“Boy toy?” he asked.

 

Zayn nodded. “Yea, Harry Styles.”

 

Louis frowned. “I don’t know a Harry Styles.”

 

“Um…you said you met a kid named Harry at the store, really shy, kind of awkward and trembly. Kind of stutters…”

 

Louis’ eyes widened in recognition. The tall, pretty boy with amazing green eyes.

 

“What! Zayn, tell me you’re lying.”

 

Zayn smirked. “Paul asked me to walk him to his first class. He’s pretty cute.”

 

Louis narrowed his eyes.

 

“What? I’m not interested in him like that though. But if he wanted to bone, I wouldn’t say no. He’s got pretty lips…make out lips.”

 

Louis blushed. “Shut up.” he muttered, attempting to twist Zayn’s nipple. Zayn grabbed Louis’ wrist, and Louis sighed.

 

“And it’s cool if you’re interested. I don’t like him like that anyways. I’m just…curious.”

 

Niall snorted. “Curious enough to wank about ‘im?”

 

A girl sitting nearby whirled around, and Niall winked at her, before turning back to Louis, who was blood red.

 

“Absolutely not, you twat.”

 

Zayn and Niall met each other’s eyes, and Louis gave them the middle finger before leaning forward and resting his forehead against Zayn’s chest. Zayn hugged him close.

 

“How are the twins?” he whispered.

 

“They’re alright. You know how it is. When one is sick, so is the other.”

 

Zayn nodded. “Is Liam in school?” he asked Niall.

 

Niall nodded. “Yea, I think he’s taking a dump.”

 

Louis sat up with a disgusted look on his face. “And how do you know that, Niall?”

 

“He texted me. Duh.” He got up. “I’m gonna join him.”

 

Zayn and Louis stared at him incredulously.

 

“You’re going to join him…while he takes a dump.” Louis said slowly, and Niall smiled.

 

“Yea mate, I get off to the smell.” he replied, laughing and walking out, ignoring the teacher completely.

 

Louis shut his eyes, rubbing his temple. “Wake me when class is over.” he murmured, and Zayn nodded as Louis made himself comfortable.

 

.

.

.

 

The day passed relatively slowly. Harry managed to stay relatively calm as students approached him, most of them friendly, asking him about himself. Finally, he had lunch, and he wandered around before finding the cafeteria, which was massive. He spotted the lunch line, and joined, staring at his shoes.

 

Looking at the choices, he saw you could order ‘freshly cooked’ food, or you could grab a ready made sandwich. He went for the sandwich, as he could see himself holding up the line while he stumbled over what he wanted, and that would be the worst. He also grabbed a small bag of carrots, and a bottle of water. Wordlessly paying, he headed out of the cafeteria.

 

Loud laughter echoed around the cafeteria, and he stopped for a moment, turning around and spotting a group across the room. A blonde was literally rolling around on the floor, and Harry smiled a bit, before quickly turning around and leaving.

 

He walked down the empty hallways, munching on his sandwich, before he found another staircase, leading downwards.

 

Why not explore, since he had the time? And it was empty and quiet, so he probably wouldn’t run into anyone, which was good. He walked, nearly stumbling over his own feet, and cursed his pigeon toes softly.

 

The sandwich wasn’t too bad, and he finished it off quickly, as he looked around. Most of the rooms were dark, and nobody was down here at all. Taking out his phone, he frowned at the low battery, and let himself into one of the empty rooms, shutting the door behind him. He plugged his phone in and sat on a desk, before grabbing his ipod and hitting shuffle.

 

Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon came on, and he hummed along, taking a sip of his water. Harry closed his eyes, drifting away into the music. He could imagine himself running, just running away from everything, and everyone, including himself, with this song as his soundtrack.

 

Where would he run though?

 

Nowhere?

 

Eternity?

.

.

.

 

“I need new sticks. I broke mine.” Liam said with a frown, his black Timbs dragging against the ground.

 

The group frowned.

 

“Again?” Niall asked, and Liam nodded.

 

“Yea, darn near took out my eye.”

 

Louis laughed. “Darn near took out mi eye!” he repeated, mocking before adding, “Gotta lay off the gym babe. Simple wood can’t handle the Payne Train.”

 

“Neither could yours.” said Liam, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

 

Niall howled, nearly plowing into Zayn, who yelped, just managed to steady both of them.

 

“Wait, shut the hell up.” said Louis suddenly.

 

They turned to him, Niall still giggling.

 

“No Niall. Shut up.” said Louis again, and his voice was serious enough that the group immediately quieted.

 

“Can you hear that?” Louis asked after a moment, and they all strained to hear.

 

**_“The dark of the alley. The break of the day. Head while I'm driving. I'm driving.”_ **

****

Louis repeated himself, this time with wide eyes. “Do yu freaking hear that?” he asked, his voice coming out as a gasp.

 

“Christ on the cross.” Niall answered, and they nodded, walking toward the sound.

 

**_“Soft lips are open. Them knuckles are pale. Feels like you're dying. You're dying.”_ **

****

Louis’ hair stood on end, because this…this was beautiful. And this…this is what they needed. They stopped at a door, and t sucked because this was one of the doors without a small glass to peer through. Looking to the other boys, they al nodded, and he slowly turned the doorknob, pushing the door open carefully.

 

And…it was…Harry. That same shy boy, that boy who had barely managed to get a few words out to him, that boy, that beautiful boy with the pretty green eyes who had run from him, who Louis had tried to get out of his head that couldn’t, that boy that kept him up and made him wonder…

 

Had a voice like this? A voice like _this_?

 

**_“You. Your sex is on fire.”_ **

 

“Christ.” said Niall again, and the group couldn’t help but nod.

 

**_“Consumed. With what’s just transpired.”_ **

****

Harry’s eyes were closed. He didn’t notice them yet. His head was tilted back as he bellowed out, his voice strong and…amazing. He carried on the notes like t was nothing. He sang like he lived through his voice. The sound of his melody seemed to brighten the dark room.

 

And then the song was finished. Just like that, it was done. But the feeling was still there.

.

.

.

 

Harry opened his eyes, released from the world he had immersed himself in. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, before turning and…

 

He wasn’t alone.

 

He wasn’t _alone_.

 

He dropped his ipod, the ear buds ripping from his ears as the gadget slid from the table and clattered noisily on the tile.

 

Zayn. Zayn was there, staring at him with wide eyes. And…the blonde from the cafeteria, although, now that he was closer, he saw some strands dyed lilac and others brown. And…a tall brunette he didn’t recognize, muscular but with a kind face. And then…Louis.

 

Louis. The boy with the pretty blue eyes and amazing arse. The boy from the record store. The boy who had seen him panic and flee like a frightened animal.

 

That same pretty boy was standing, right there, a few feet away and…

 

“That was amazing Harry.” Louis said, his soft voice breaking the silence.

 

Louis had heard him.

 

Louis had heard him _sing_.

 

It was like an out of body experience. His vision fluttered, zooming in and out of focus rapidly. The room spun, the stilled, and spun again. Was this what being high was like? The last thing he heard before he keeled over was a startled yell.

 

How did this become his life, and how could he end it?

 

****

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don’t know what’s happening here, sorry. Also, sorry for the mistakes. I have a feeling I jumbled everything up. Please tell me if something completely doesn't make sense lol. Love you guys :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yea so I changed Tate’s name in this story to Damian because I have a Tate in another story and don’t know how I didn’t notice. Whoops. Also, I still have no idea what I’m doing with this. Shout out to my writers out there who are slaves to their ideas with NO PLOT. Sorry for the mistakes that must be everywhere.
> 
> WARNINGS: mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts

Louis wanted to take this time to thank not only God but Jesus that he had been so into athletics and was still in shape for the fact that he had just barely managed to dive across the room and save Harry from braining himself on the school’s tile on his first day.

 

He figured that Harry wasn’t a very ‘touchy feely’ person and gently placed his head on the floor instead of his lap, before turning to the boys with wide eyes.

 

“So…that was wild.” he squeaked, and those words thrust the room into pandemonium.

 

“We’ve killed ‘im!” Liam screeched, covering his face and turning, tumbling into a pile of chairs.

 

Niall just stood there, face void of emotion, even going so far as to pull up and empty seat and just sit down.

 

Zayn was…where was Zayn?

 

So Niall was clocked out, Liam was tangled in chairs, and Zayn had materialized out of the classroom. Lovely.

 

Louis sighed. “Zayn!” he shouted, and a few moments later, Zayn peaked his head from around the now open classroom door.

 

Louis raised an eyebrow.

 

“Honestly mate, I came to hear his voice, not get pinned with a murder charge.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Shut the hell up and go help untangle Liam. And then help Niall. He’s gone catatonic.

 

Zayn rolled his eyes, walking back in. “Wow, big words.” he mocked, pulling a near hysterical Liam out of the wreckage.

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m not all arse, you know.”

 

Zayn didn’t bother to answer, instead setting Liam down with a quick kiss and then went over to revive Niall.

 

Seeing that Zayn had a bit of a handle on things, Louis turned his attention back to Harry, who’s eyelids were beginning to flutter. He leaned over him, peering down, because while of course it was creepy to stare so hard at a boy he’d partially had a hand in rendering unconscious, sad boy was also very, _very_ attractive.

 

Harry’s eyes blinked open. His green eyes zeroed in on Louis’ blue ones , and that was also the moment he stopped freaking breathing.

 

Harry scrambled to think of what exactly was happening, oh right, Louis had heard him sing, among other people he didn’t really know, of course, but this was also the same Louis he’d made a huge fool of himself in front of in that record store, that pretty Louis, the Louis with the beautiful blue eyes and fantastic arse, _that_ Louis.

 

“If you don’t start breathing mate, then we’re really gonna get locked up for murder.” Louis said, and Harry flinched from where he was laying down, forcing himself as best as he could to take calm, measured, breaths. _Calm, measured, breaths._

 

The fact that he was able too was actually a good thing, because he couldn’t always make himself breathe normally, and then he’d get dizzy, and actually feel like he was dying, and it was always a messy situation.

 

Louis moved back giving Harry the space he needed to sit up.

 

Harry blinked, staring dazedly at everyone around him. The muscular brunette with the hair shaved lightly on both sides stared at him. Sat next to him was the lilac/blond/brunette, also staring at him. Then there was Zayn, leaning against the doorway, who was as well, staring at him.

 

And then there was Louis, sitting a few feet away and also. Staring. At. Him.

 

“So, you just nearly brained yourself on the pretty almost but not quite white tile here.” Louis said, breaking the silence.

 

Harry didn’t know what to say to that.

 

Harry didn’t know what to say to anything, really, which is why he spent so much of his time bumbling like an idiot.

 

So he kept his mouth closed knowing that if he opened it, he’d make himself even more nervous, start shaking, and then his teeth might chatter, and that would be horribly embarrassing, not that this situation wasn’t already horribly embarrassing, in fact, his entire life was a constant mix of mortification and self hatred, so he should really be used to feeling embarrassed, but the thing about embarrassment was that it struck even the boldest of people, and sadly, Harry wasn’t one of those who knew how to brush it off, instead wishing to vanish forever, like he felt, right now.

 

It was a stupid never ending cycle and the window was close by and if he tried hard enough, he could jump out of it, but he wasn’t nearly high enough to make that type of action a more…final one.

 

“Harry, mate?”

 

Harry blinked at him.

 

“Y’alright mate?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded.

 

“Right, okay, well, erm, sorry for scaring you and all that, but you have a really beautiful voice.”

 

Harry stared down at his lap, tugging at a loose string from his flannel.

 

Louis turned around to look at the others, and they all shrugged, Zayn urging him to continue conversation.

 

“Um, well, as you know, I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Superman over there is Liam Payne,  who also goes by Li, Payne Train,  and daddy dearest. Next to him with the awesome dye-job is Niall Horan, who is appropriately named Giggles in my phone, because he’s loads of fun and almost always happy. Then we have Zayn Malik, who I believe you’ve also met, who we also call Zen, Vain Zayn, the Model, Hottie McHotterman, I’d dick him down anytime, any day, anywhere, good sir, yes, that whole part was _one_ fine wine, too sexy-

 

“Lou. Shut. Up.” Niall interrupted, back in the game. “We call Louis Lou, and Rambles, and Booty Me Down, like that song, and…

 

Niall trailed off, because Harry had pulled his shirt up over his face to help hide his laughter.

 

Louis and Niall exchanged an air high five.

 

“So, Harry, we were thinking of hitting up the park. Care to join?” Liam asked kindly, and Harry moved the shirt from his face, because here was _another_ problem.

 

If he said no, he’d look like the total loser he actually was. If he said yes, he would subject himself to more inevitable embarrassment, like, having to talk and stuff, and again, looking like a total loser.

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Liam rushed to add, and wonderful, it looked like Liam was aware of how awkward he was, so now he had felt obligated to offer a way out because Harry himself was too dumb to do it.

 

“Just come with us, Harry. It’ll be fun, promise.” Louis said, and Harry finally looked up from his lap, nodding slowly.

 

The group stood up, and Harry grabbed his bag and his ipod, following them. They managed to avoid security and people in general in a way that really spoke of how often they did this, walking out through the front door.

 

Harry hesitated for a moment as the walked down the front steps, before he took a deep breathe and followed them

 

He could do this.

.

.

.

 

The walk was an adventure in itself. The loudest of the group were Louis and Niall, filled to the brim with dirty jokes and rambunctious laughter that had Harry smiling behind his hand at. Zayn was quiet, the more observant of the group, only speaking when he found he really needed to, but still managing to contribute to the conversation. Liam was mellow, not as silent as Zayn but definitely not as loud as the others. But he spoke at a rapid fire pace and everyone followed along just fine, apparently used to it.

 

Harry watched the group as he followed behind them, not in their circle but not too far away that he catch their attention. Louis suddenly jumped onto Niall’s back, causing the other boy to yelp in surprise.

 

“Onward, noble steed!” Louis shouted, and Niall took off at a run.

 

Liam laughed and Zayn shook his head.

 

Harry bit his lip to suppress his smile.

 

.

.

.

 

The park was rather large, with a good sized field of grass and a swing set a little further onwards. Louis hopped off of Niall back and jogged over to a bush, grabbing a football he’d apparently hidden there.

 

“Still here boys!” he said with a smile before kicking the ball to Niall who returned it with gusto.

 

Liam joined in their game and the three took turns kicking the ball around. Zayn sat off to the side and lit a cigarette. Harry stood awkwardly for a moment before heading over to the swings, settling to and swaying too and fro as he watched the group.

 

“Wanna play Harry?” Niall called out and Harry quickly shook his head no because he was _terrible_ at sports.

 

Niall nodded and passed the ball to Liam who tripped when Louis appeared suddenly and stole the ball out from under him.

 

“Nice!” yelled Niall while Liam gave Louis the finger as he righted himself.

 

“S’what you get for those clunky work boots.” Louis joked, before screeching and Liam toed one off and chucked one at him.

 

“You could have killed me!” Louis laughed, before grabbing the boot off the ground and taking off with it, leaving Liam to hobble after him.

 

An hour went by like that, Harry sitting relatively comfortable as he watched the boys around him play. His phone vibrated from his bag and he reached around, skillfully unzipping his bag and grabbing it.

 

-1st day going okay bro?- Gem

 

Harry smiled down at his phone, always happy to hear from her. She as kind of his rock, and it’d been a while.

 

-I’m ok. I’m at the park- Harry

 

The response was almost immediate.

 

-The park?????- Gem

 

-I thought you had school????????- Gem

 

Harry bit his lip, giggling softly.

 

-I do but I’m with some ppl. They invited me- Harry

 

-Harry Styles you naughty boy. Cutting on the 1st day. I’m proud of you- Gem

 

Harry toed at the sand beneath his Converse.

 

-But remember, don’t let anyone put their hands on you. If they hit you, hit back- Gem

 

Harry sighed softly.

 

-k- Harry

 

-I’m so serious Harry- Gem

 

-Harry?- Gem

 

-Ok. Call me when you get home.- Gem

 

-Love you <3- Gem

 

-I love you too Gem- Harry

 

The squeak of the swing next to him drew Harry’s attention and he looked to see Louis sitting beside him.

 

“Hey.” Louis said, sounding slightly out of breath.

 

Harry swallowed. “Hi.” he answered quietly.

 

“So…I’d promised you’d have fun but I haven’t really included you in anything. Sure you don’t wanna play with us?”

 

Harry bit his lip. He could _try_.

 

“O-ok.” Harry muttered, and Louis’ smile in response was brilliant.

 

“Harry’s gonna play!” Louis shouted, and Niall cheered.

 

Liam passed him the ball in his socks, having long since abandoned his boots. Harry rushed to meet the pass, and very carefully kicked it back in Liam’s direction, trying his best not to look like a complete and utter dumbass.

 

He took his bag off and carefully set it a ways off, glancing at Zayn who was laying in the grass before the ball bounced off his feet. He quickly turned around and kicked it toward Louis who moved around like an expert on the field, kicking it to Niall who yelped and jumped out of the way.

 

“Please calm down, Beckham. Some of us aren’t experts here.” Niall joked, jogging to grab the ball.

 

“Shush Niall. I’m not Liam.”

 

Liam snorted. “Yea mate, I might look like him, but don’t act like you’re not bothered being compared to a man you want up your arse.”

 

Louis mooned him in response and Harry stumbled, because yes he’d dreamed of Louis’ arse but he certainly hadn’t expected to catch a glimpse so soon, if at all.

 

“Louis, behave.” called Zayn from where he was sitting up.

 

Louis fixed his very tight jeans, wiggling a bit to pull them up, which was very good, in Harry’s opinion.

 

He quickly looked away focusing on the ball Niall passed him, do not trip, do not embarrass yourself, and he didn’t, thankfully, kicking it to Liam.

 

They played for a while, Harry super focused on staying calm and not being weird, and he figured he pulled that off at least a little but because as far as he was aware he hadn’t gotten any weirded out looks from the others.

 

Louis pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen and managed to maneuver the ball at the same time, kicking it skillfully back to Liam who passed to Niall who passed to Harry.

 

Niall pulled out his phone and wasn’t nearly as coordinated, nearly face-planting and sending the other three into a fit of giggles.

 

Harry snorted softly.

 

“I think it’s gonna rain guys. We should head back.” called Zayn, and they all looked up at the sky.

 

“Yea, and my jacket’s at me locker.” Niall chimed in.

 

“I don’t have an umbrella though.” Louis said with a pout.

 

“It’s fine.” Zayn said, catching Louis’ sentence as he was walking towards them. “I’ll drive you to work.”

 

Louis smiled, meeting him halfway and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Thank you Zayney Poo.”

 

Zayn rolled his eyes and walked over to Liam who was lacing up his shoes. Harry walked over and grabbed his bag, shouldering it, and the group headed back to the school.

 

The walk back was a bit quieter, all of them occupied with their phones. Harry still lagged slightly behind, not wanting to crowd into their space. He kept his gaze on his shoes, gaze widening slightly when a pare of Toms appeared beside him. He glanced to the side to see Louis.

 

“So, was that alright?” Louis asked after a few moments of silence.

 

“Um, yea, it was, it was fun.” Harry mumbled in reply.

 

“Cool. I like to keep my promises, ya know?”

 

Harry nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

 

Niall looked back at Louis and the two had some sort of silent conversation.

 

“I know, I will.” Louis said, shooing Niall.

 

The school loomed ahead and students were milling about outside. Harry checked his phone, surprised at how much time had passed while he’d been out. He squinted and could see the signature black SUV parked a little bit farther from the school.

 

The group stopped a bit from the school, whispering to each other.

 

“Ask him!” he heared Liam say harshly, and Louis turned to Harry looking a bit nervous.

 

Harry started to sweat. Clearly they were talking about him now. He clenched his fists from where the were hidden in his pockets, shuffling from foot to foot, breathing carefully, in, and out. In, and out.

 

“Harry.” Louis started, and Harry looked at him for a moment before looking off to the side. “We were um, we…we do this…we’re in a band, yea?”

 

Harry blinked.

 

“And we were, um, hoping you’d like to sing for us.”

 

There was no way Harry could avoid eye contact from a request like that. He looked from all of them, back to Louis, all holding hopeful gazes.

 

“I…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

 

“I mean, we’re play and stuff, at pubs and whatever. I like to think we’re pretty good. I’m on lead guitar, Niall’s guitar as well, Zayn’s on bass, and Liam’s a kickass drummer, but we could use like, another voice, and like, you could try it out first mate, and if you don’t like it it’s whatever, totally your choice…”

 

Harry was starting to tremble again. He needed to leave.

 

Louis cast a helpless look at the other boys.

 

“It’s totally up to you mate.” Zayn said, pulling out another cigarette.

 

“Your voice was pretty freakin killer. Almost caught a boner.” Niall added, and the others either tugged at their hair or cursed in exasperation.

 

Harry blushed. It was really time for him to go. He needed to think. He needed to be alone, in the comfort of his room.

 

“My, erm, my ride’s here.” he muttered.

 

All their shoulders dropped. He rushed to make things better. “I’ll um, t-think about it?”

 

They perked up.

 

“That’s totally cool. Yup. Awesome.” Louis replied. “It was cool hanging with you Harry.”

 

Harry nodded, gasping when Niall suddenly stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

 

“See ya Harry!” he said happily, jumping back and colliding with Liam who huffed but smiled anyways, waving at Harry. Zayn nodded his way and started walking back into the building.

 

Harry locked eyes with Louis again for a second before turning and jogging to the car, opening the door and pretty much diving in.

 

“Welcome back, young sir. How was your first day?” James asked, putting the vehicle in gear and driving off.

 

Harry watched as the group walked into the school building before focusing on James. He didn’t know how he could possibly explain all that’d happened, so he settled on a small shrug. James smiled.

 

“It’s been a while since your eyes were so bright, young sir, so it must have been interesting at least.”

 

Harry didn’t know what to say to that either. They sat in silence before Harry sat up, his heart finally beating a little less fast.

 

“Is um, is _he_ there?” Harry asked softly, and James frowned.

 

“Sir Bollier is home, yes.”

 

Harry slumped in his seat. His room was his solace, but getting there was the real problem, especially when Damian was there.

 

They were back at the house faster than Harry would have liked to be, and harry stepped out, shuffling behind James who opened to door for Harry. Harry made a beeline for his room, heading up the spiral stairs and down the endless hallway. He was almost there when a voice stopped him.

 

“How was your first day, Harry?”

 

Harry jumped, immediately breaking out into a small sweat. He turned to see Damian standing a few feet down the hall.

 

“I-it was alright.” he whispered, pulling at the sleeves of the flannel around his waist.

 

Damian frowned. “You’ve got to learn to speak up, son.”

 

Harry flinched. He wasn’t his son. He wasn’t.

 

“I just want the best for you, Harry.” said Damian, walking a bit closer.

 

Harry took a small step back. The older man smirked.

 

“And you might be a little…confused at the moment, but you’ll always have me pushing you to be the best you can be. So speak up, son, when you talk to me.”

 

“Okay.” Harry muttered.

 

“What did I just say, Harry.” Damian snapped, and Harry shuddered.

 

“O-okay.” he tried a little louder.

 

Damian blinked. “It’s a work I progress, I suppose.” he mumbled before walking off.

 

Harry watched him round the corner before he all but bolted into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

 

He dumped his bag on the ground and threw himself onto his bed, breathing in, and out, in, and out.

 

He would be fine.

 

It would be okay.

 

And if it wasn’t, all he had to do was end it.

 

There was always a final solution.

.

.

.

 

~

 

_Damian thinks I’m confused. He’s scaring me. I’m so scared of him._

_Mum isn’t ever home, and I miss her, but she’s always with her stupid rich friends. I love her so much and I’m not upset, I mean sometimes I am but not for long because who would want to stay cooped up in the house with me?_

_I wouldn’t._

_I’m ignoring Gemma’s calls because she’s always been able to tell what’s wrong, even through my voice over the phone and I can’t keep being a hindrance._

_I’m always a hindrance. She can’t keep taking care of me all the time._

_I don’t even know what I’m writing._

_School was kind of crazy. Louis goes there._

_L O U I S._

_I hung out with his friends. He’s so animated and happy and full of life. It’s weird that I think about him so much, because I’m sort of the opposite._

_His friends are nice. Niall is really happy too, and his laugh is funny. Zayn is cool. Liam is really kind. They’re all fun to be around._

_I saw Louis’ butt oh my GOD_

_And they heard me sing. And I fainted like an idiot. But I think they liked it, because they want me to join their band._

_I don’t even know what to think about that. How can I sing in the band when I jump at my own shadow? How can I make a commitment like that when I’m not even committed to life?_

_I don’t know what to do. My head is all over the place. I can’t THINK. I want to scream._

_I think I need to cut. And maybe I’ll feel a little better, take a nap, and dream about Louis’ butt._

_That kind of rhymed._

_I hate myself._

_~_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mentions of self-harm, mild self-harm

~

_Ominous skies_

_Desperate cries_

_The blood dripping from my thighs_

_Slowly dries_

_~_

Harry spent the next three days from school. He told his mum he wasn’t feeling well, and it wasn’t a lie, because he really did not feel okay. Damian was having a busy week and was hardly home so Harry felt somewhat safer.

 

He spent most of his time alternating between freaking out about Louis and the band offer and staring blankly at his wall from under his covers. His phone was dead and filled with texts from his sister he’d ignored. The phone was on his desk, a few feet away but he just didn’t feel like getting up to grab it so he’d left it. Harry was pretty sure he smelled terribly, but if he didn’t have what it took to grab his phone then how was he supposed to take a shower?

 

He went back to sleep.

 

.

.

.

 

When he woke up again, someone was humming and running their hands through his hair. He slowly leaned into the touch before his eyes blinked open, meeting James’.

 

“Hello young sir.” the man whispered, and Harry just continued to stare. “You haven’t eaten in three days. It’s 8:30 at night and no one is home but you, I, and some staff.”

 

Harry didn’t have it in him to answer.

 

“There are pastries and tea waiting for you, but first, I’m going to give you a bath. The water is already drawn.”

 

Harry watched as James drew the blankets off of him, pulling them from the bed and tossing them into a pile. He then took hold of Harry’s hands.

 

“I’m going to pull you up on the count of three, young sir.”

 

Harry blinked.

 

When three came, Harry was carefully tugged upwards into a sitting position. Together, James managed to get Harry on his feet and they slowly made their way to the bathroom.

 

“I’m going to remove your clothes now, if that’s alright with you.”

 

Harry blushed a bit, but he realized that if James didn’t do it, he wouldn’t either. Once Harry was naked, Harry realized his mistake.

 

His cuts.

 

He went rigid as he glanced at James, whose eyes slowly roamed, eyes lingering on the healing slashes on Harry’s stomach and the numerous scars littering his thighs.

 

Their eyes met.

 

“I’m so-

 

“There is nothing to apologize for, young sir. Let’s get you in that bath now, yeah?”

 

 James helped him into the warm water, keeping a firm hold because Harry was trembling so violently.  As soon as he was seated in the warm water, Harry sighed softly, the heat seeping into his bones.

 

“Once you’re clean, you’ll feel a little better. I promise. I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

James left Harry to sit for a while, and Harry allowed himself to slide further and further down until he was completely submerged. He was so stupid. How could he forget about the scars? He sat underneath the water until his body began t o tremble from the lack of air before he surged upward, gasping for breath.

 

Strangely enough, he felt a little lighter. He reached forward, grabbing his soap and scrubbing himself. God, he was filthy. He was just about to reach for his shampoo when James knocked, letting himself in.

 

“Looking better already, young sir.”

 

He carefully took the shampoo, rolling up his sleeves and lathering it into Harry’s hair. Harry sighed again as James worked at his scalp, massaging as he cleaned. He then produced a comb from seemingly nowhere, running it through and getting any knots out.

 

“Tell me if it hurts please.”

 

Harry bit his lip. “It’s, erm, it’s fine. Nice.” he croaked, voice raspy from lack of use. He blushed at the sound.

 

“It’s alright,” James soothed, “You’re a little unwell.”

 

There was something about the way he’d said, ‘little unwell’ that made it seem as if he knew more, perhaps more than Harry knew himself. Harry pondered that as he closed his eyes, trying to relax a little more.

 

“Young sir?”

 

Harry blinked tiredly.

 

“I understand you’re tired, but please finish your bath and eat something before you go back to bed.”

 

Harry nodded, and James helped him out of the tub, draping him in a towel. He left and returned with a jumper, a pair of sweats, and some socks. Harry dried himself off and pulled on the clothes, running the towel through his hair as he meekly followed James into the kitchens.

 

True to his word, there were pastries, along with a glass of orange juice, water, and a mug of tea. As he eyed the food, he realized just how hungry he really was, and he dug in. One of the cooks, Hellen, ruffled his hair as she passed. He blushed, hiding a soft smile.

 

James returned, and Harry frowned a bit at the look on his face. He hadn’t even realized James had left.

 

“Your mother has returned. She’s asking of you whereabouts. Should I?”

 

Harry nodded.

 

James left and returned with Anne.

 

“Oh, my love, I heard you weren’t well.” Anne said with a frown, walking up and giving Harry a kiss on the cheek.

 

She felt his forehead. “No fever, but you do look a bit peaky.”

 

“I’m okay.” Harry mumbled, feeling a bit stronger with something in his system. She sat down across from him.

 

“Hm…well at least it’s the weekend, so you can rest up a bit more before you go back to school.”

 

Harry nodded, and she reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it lightly.

 

“Alright love. I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

 

She left as quickly as she came. Harry stared down at his empty hand where here hers had just been, already missing it’s warmth. He then sat back in the chair, looking down at his lap.

 

“Can we go see Dad, please?” he whispered after a moment.

 

“Of course. I’ll get the car ready,” said James.

 

Harry waited, slipping one of his hands under his shirt to rub lightly at the scars, tracing them with his fingertips before pressing against them. He winced but pressed even further, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

 

“Young sir?”

 

Harry got up without a word, following James out to the car. His socks met the cool of the concrete and he bit his lip, stepping into the car.

 

“I have a pair of shoes for you, if you’d like, young sir.”

 

Harry shook his head no, and James nodded, closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. The car pulled out of the driveway and Harry leaned against the window, shutting his eyes.

 

It was always easier if he slept on the way there.

.

.

.

 

He awoke to James calling him. Harry sat up, looking around, before pulling off his socks and stepping out of the car.

 

The grass was freezing beneath his feet and he curled his toes as he walked, stretching his arms out and breathing deeply. The air was cool. He moved slowly, taking in the dull and cloudy sky, the endless expanse of light grey, before he angled his eyes to gaze at the dark obsidian marble before him.

 

‘Oh my beloved, how you are missed’ read the gravestone.

 

Harry remembered how his mother had weeped those exact words for hours against the coffin before the buried it. His hand had been firmly grasped in Gemma’s as she’d stood so tall for a girl so young.

 

Harry sat before the stone, leaning forward to press his palms against it.

 

“I miss you Dad,” he whispered. “And when you left, I think you kind of took mum with you, because the part that used to stick around us all the time is gone and Damian and the others have the rest of her.”

 

Harry traced the words carved into the stone.

 

“I miss the way you used to hold me. You were always so warm. You and mum and Gemma and I. Everything was so warm.”

 

The sky broke open and Harry was soaked within minutes.

 

“Now everything is cold all the time. Cold and confusing.”

 

He thought about the feel of Damian’s harsh fingers crushing his chin.

 

“And scary.”

 

Harry brought his fingers up to press against the picture of his father also carved into the stone.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, before standing up.

 

His feet squelched against the damp grass and mud as he made his way back to the car. Once he was inside, James handed him a blanket, and Harry wrapped it around him, drifting back to sleep again.

.

.

.

 

“It’s Friday,” Louis mumbled, and Zayn nodded.

 

“That is is,” Zayn replied with a yawn.

 

“It’s Friday and we spoke to him Monday and he still hasn’t come back.”

 

Zayn shrugged. “Mate, you see the way his hands shake and he like, always whispers and stuff. Maybe he needed some time.”

 

Louis turned to him. “’I’m not stupid Zayn. Of course I noticed. S’like anxiety or something, right?”

 

“I think so,” Niall chimed in from where he was lying on the floor, playing Pokémon. “Liam, what do you think?”

 

Liam looked up from his phone. “Honestly, I think we probably should have waited a bit before we asked him.”

 

Louis frowned. “But I texted all of you and you were all like, yea, let’s ask him to join our borgy-

 

“Borgy?” Niall asked, looking over.

 

“Band orgy,” Zayn explained, “shut up and talk sense, Louis.”

 

“Anyways,” said Louis, “you were all like yea let’s do it. So-

 

“I understand that, Louis,” Liam interrupting, “But this is me talking after I;ve thought about all that, so let me finish, yea?”

 

Louis nodded.

 

“I think if we had waited a bit and like, observed or got to know him better, and he us, it wouldn’t have been such a panicky situation we have now.” Liam finished.

 

They all sat on that for a bit.

 

“So, what can we do now?” Louis asked softly.

 

“Wait it out I guess.” Zayn answered with a shrug.

 

Louis moaned, rolling on top of Zayn.

 

“But I hate waiting.” he whined.

 

Zayn wrapped one arm around him. “I know, babe.”

.

.

.

 

~

_They’re expecting an answer and I don’t know what to tell them._

_~_

.

.

.

 

Harry stared in front of his mirror on Monday morning, fully dressed and filled to the brim with terror. He shakily adjusted the scarf around his head and grabbed his bag before heading out. His phone was charged but off in his pocket. He didn’t have what it took to sift through his texts from Gemma at the moment. The smell of breakfast led him to the kitchens at his little table in the corner.

 

Eggs on toast, bacon, and hash was laid out with a cup of tea. Hellen gave him a small smile and he waved thanks at her, sitting down and digging in. He ate slowly, afraid that his nervousness would trigger nausea or worse. When he was finally finished, James appeared at the doorway to the kitchens.

 

“It you’re ready?” he asked, and Harry nodded, standing up and following him out to the car.

 

Damian was still away.

 

Small blessings.

 

No…huge ones.

.

.

.

 

The hallways were crowded when Harry arrived, and he took care to avoid any gazes or accidentally bump into anyone. He managed to arrive to his first class early, sitting at the desk he’d been at last time. There were a few other kids in the class, either on their phones or asleep. Harru leaned on one of his hands and stared out the window.

 

“Harry, there you are.”

 

Harry jumped and saw his teacher setting things her things down on desk.

 

“I have a few things for you. The textbook for the class, your locker number and combination, and a pass for you to go to the office so you can take your ID picture. You can head there now.”

 

Harry stared for a moment before nodding, getting up and taking the things from her.

 

“T-thanks,” he mumbled, and she nodded.

 

He kept his head down as he left, only to bump into someone.

 

“Watch it, kid.”

 

Harry nearly dropped his things as he looked up into the eyes of a kid about an inch or two taller than him, but a much stockier build. Harry caught sight of the lettermen jacket and knew he’d screwed up.

 

“So you’re the new kid then,” the guy asked, looking Harry up and down, “You’re pretty cute.”

 

THAT threw Harry for a loop.

 

“What’s your name then?” he asked, backing Harry up against a row of lockers.

 

Harry stared, wide-eyed.

 

“Erm…”

 

“Whooooooo baby!! Kyle-y boy’s got another one!” said one of the jock’s friends, surrounding the two of them.

 

He high-fived another boy and the group around them laughed.

 

“I don’t think he’s interested, Kyle.”

 

Both turned to see Louis standing there with his arms crossed. Though quite a bit shorter than Kyle, his height did nothing to diminished the menacing stare directed at the taller boy. Kyle frowned, taking a step back from Harry.

 

“What, so he’s yours?” Kyle asked, tone mocking.

 

Harry looked between the two, nervously.

 

“He’s no one’s but his own.” Louis answered, moving forward and gently taking Harry’s arm, pulling him behind him. Harry found himself bumping into someone else and he jumped, looking back to see he was now in Niall’s arms. Zayn and Liam pushed forward through the crowd, Zayn twirling an unlit cigarette and Liam standing rigidly with his head cocked to the side, muscled arms slightly bulged in anticipation, hands in his pockets.

 

Kyle laughed, glancing around him. “We both know you don’t work that way, Tomlinson,” he said, his group of friends also stepping a bit closer.

 

“Oh, and how do I work then?” Louis asked.

 

“You should be asking my dick that question. You know it nearly better than I do.”

 

The crowd around them jeered.

 

Louis laughed. “It takes time to get to know something, Kyle, and we all know it only takes you a little less than a minute to get off. I don’t know it as well as you think.”

 

The crowed was even louder, and Kyle glared stepping forward. Louis braced himself, angling his fists. Harry’s took small gaspsing breaths as he watched the two of them, no more, because Zayn and Liam were squaring up as well, and Kyle’s friends were cracking their knuckles. The entire hallway reeked of tension, in anticipation for a dramatic collision of fists.

 

Just as Kyle moved tto throw the first punch, Paul was there, catching his fist and yanking him back, another security guard literally grabbing Louis from behind and hauling him upwards.

 

“It’s not happening, you hear me!” Paul yelled, and the crowd was instantly slenced.

 

“Scram!” he said, and everyone who wasn’t involved did just that, running to their classes.

 

The other guard set Louis down and Louis glared.

 

“I wish I could say I ere surprised at who was causin’ theis commotion.” Paul said as he looked between Louis and Kyle.

 

“We were just talking, Paul-y, nothing serious.”

 

“Well you can continue ‘just talking’ in my office.”

 

Both boys slumped.

 

“But-

 

“Hop to it.”

 

Louis looked back at the boys before meeting Harry’s eyes, walking away with a sigh.

 

“I’ll see you around, Green Eyes.”

 

Harry looked over at Kyle, who licked his lips slowly at Harry before sauntering off.

 

“The hell you will.” Louis growled, and Paul shoved him forward, away from Kyle.

 

“The rest of you, get to class.” Paul shouted from down the hallway before he turned the corner.

 

Zayn sighed, running his hand through his hair. “That was a lot.”

 

“Ya’ alright there, Harry?” asked Niall.

 

Harry nodded nervously, taking a few steps away from him. His mind was whirling. What the hell was that?

 

“Kyle is gross.” Liam said, grabbing Louis’ bag from where he’d left it, shouldering it.

 

Harry glanced between them all, confused.

 

Zayn met his eyes. “Kyle is Louis’ ex.”

 

Harry blinked, before nodding slowly. That explained some of the…hostility.

 

“Nasty breakup,” Niall added with a frown, “But that’s Louis’ story to tell.

 

“I-um, t-thank you…for um, for that.”

 

Zayn shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

 

Harry looked down at his converse before peering up at him. “Will, um…will Louis get in trouble?”

 

Zayn met his eyes again, looking at him closely before smiling. “No, Paul’s got a soft spot for him. He’ll be back by lunch.”

 

Harry nodded, relieved. He didn’t want to be the cause of something worse happening to Louis. This was his fault anyways. If he’d just managed to pay attention, he wouldn’t have bumped into Kyle and set all this off.

 

“Were you headed somewhere?” Liam asked, and Harry kept his eyes down.

 

“Yea, um, to, to my locker. And um, to take my ID picture.” Harry mumbled.

 

“Well let’s go then.” said Niall, grabbing Harry arm and tugging him along.

 

Harry squealed softly but allowed himself to be led, oddly feeling a little more balanced as this strange group of boys her hardly knew surrounded him.

.

.

.

 

“You can smile or straight face it, I don’t care, and no retakes.”

 

Harry blinked.

 

“And take that tablecloth off your head, or whatever it is.”

 

Harry frowned, before listening to the ID photographer and reaching up with shaking fingers to take off the scarf. Louis crept in just in time to watch Harry shake out his hair, running his hands through the locks.

 

Zayn, Niall, and Liam watched as Louis stopped and stared, swallowing thickly before turning to them. He blushed when he saw them watching him and gave them the finger, joining them.

 

“Not a word,” he whispered harshly, and they giggled.

 

Harry gave the cameraman a soft smile and blinked after the flash came.

 

“Pick it up at the end of the day and get out,” said the man.

 

Harry scrambled to grab his things and he stopped, looking over to where the rest of the group was. Louis was back. He was whispering to Niall, both extremely animated, and Harry couldn’t help but be drawn to Louis’ ripped jeans, arse just as magnificent in those as they were in anything else he seemed to wear. His eyes roamed upwards to see the way Louis smiled at whatever Liam had said, and wow.

 

He looked really happy.

 

Harry glanced over to see Zayn staring at him. Louis looked up at Zayn and followed his gaze to Harry.

 

“Harry, you coming? 1st periods almost over and we can walk you to your next class.”

 

“Yea, get out.” the cameraman deadpanned, and they all rushed out.

 

“Such a chipper guy. Loves kids.” Niall mumbled sarcastically.

 

Louis looked over at Harry. “You alright then? Kyle can be a bit…yuck.”

 

Harry blushed at the weight of Louis’ full attention. “Um, yea, I’m okay.” Harry answered, looking over at Louis’ old Vans.

 

“And Zayn, were you really gonna fight in my honor?”

 

Zayn snorted. “When haven’t I?”

 

“I know but like, Yaser will kick your ass if you get in another fight.” Liam said, sounding concerned.

 

“Like your mother wouldn’t?” Zayn said in reply.

 

“Yea, but Liam won’t come to my house crying his eyes out.”

 

Zayn pouted. “I just don’t like when we fight is all,” he mumbled and Louis over, squeezing his hand.

 

“I know love. I didn’t mean to poke fun.”

 

Zayn smiled at him.

 

Harry watched them all interact as he walked to class and looked away. It used to be like that in his family. Little jokes, small comfort, endless love, all in a perpetual cycle…

 

Until it wasn’t.

 

“Harry?”

 

Harry blinked, looking up.

 

“You okay?” asked Louis.

 

Harry nodded.

 

They reached his class and all stood outside of the classroom.

 

“Come to our table at lunch, if you want,” said Louis, and Harry nodded, fumbling with the scarf that was still in his hands.

 

“See you then.” Louis said with a smile before grabbing Niall’s hand and tugging him forward. Zayn and Liam locked eyes and sighed fondly before waving a following along.

 

Harry watched them go before taking a few deep breaths, gearing himself to go in the classroom.

 

He opened the door with shaking hands and stepped inside.

.

.

.

 

The rest of his classes until lunch passed in a relative blur. He’d received more textbooks, but more stares too. News must have spread about what happened with him earlier. He’d remained a still as possible in an overly self-conscious daze.

 

It was lunch now though, and he quietly made his way into the huge cafeteria. It wasn’t hard to spot Louis and the others though. They were so loud. Niall caught sight of him and he jumped up, looking as if he were going to yell but Zayn tugged him back down. Louis waved him over and Harry walked quickly, sitting down opposite him.

 

“You gonna get something to eat?”

 

Harry pulled out a sandwich, chips, and a bottle of water.

 

“So resourceful.” Louis joked.

 

He was the only one of the group without food in front of him.

 

“What happened this time?” Zayn asked, and Louis shrugged, glancing at Harry and away.

 

Zayn sighed and handed Louis half his sandwich.

 

“I’m alr-

 

“I’ll shove it down your throat.” Zayn interrupted and Louis took the sandwich with a pout, taking a large bite.

 

Niall rolled his apple over and Liam gave him one of his juice boxes. Harry watched this all happen before he bit his lip nervously, slowly pushing his small bag of chips Louis’ way.

 

“Guys, Harry, stop, I’m _fine._ ” he mumbled with a blush, but took the food anyway. “Thanks.”

 

“Oh please, with this this humble mellow bullshit.” Niall laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

 

Louis glared, grabbing one of Niall’s fries and tossing it at him.

 

“Let’s not, boys. Paul’s on the lookout,” said Liam, nodding in his direction.

 

They all glanced at the door to where Paul was indeed staring exactly at them. Louis waved and they watched Paul roll his eyes and turn away.

 

“So, Harry, where are you from?” Louis asked, taking another one of Niall’s fries.

 

Harry nearly choked, and he took a long sip of water. “Um…I was, um, I went to L. Prep-

 

“You went to _L. PREP_!?” Niall interrupted, and Liam let out a low whistle.

 

“That’s that rich people school, innit?” Louis asked, glaring at Niall and stuck his tongue out.

 

“Erm, yea, I guess.”

 

“Damn. What brings you here then?”

 

Harry bit his lip and shrugged. “Stepdad wanted to um, move, I think.”

 

“You left that palace to go to this dump?” Louis asked, wide eyed, and Harry shrugged again, tearing at the crust on his sandwich.

 

“I guess,” he mumbled.

 

Louis nodded. “I guess it’s cool. We met you, so…”

 

Harry looked up, meeting Louis’ eyes, and the two stared at each other for a moment.

 

“You’re pretty cool, Harry,” said Louis with a smile.

 

Harry blushed but couldn’t look away. “You’re…um…cool too…I guess. All of you guys.”

 

“D’awwwww-

 

“Niall, please,” said Zayn.

 

The group laughed and Harry smiled down at his sandwich.

.

.

.

 

Harry was kind of pleased to find out that he had the next class with Louis, who promptly kicked a girl out of her seat so that Harry could sit beside him.

 

“So, this teacher is kind of a dick depending on his mood, so try not to let his dickish behavior mess with you. He’s hot though.”

 

The teacher, a middle aged male, with a bit of grey hair, the hot aged grey, not old and shriveled, walked in with a stack of papers.

 

“I have your tests. Miss Waters, I don’t know how you expect to get into university with these grades, but that’s you’re business, I suppose.”

 

Harry shrank down in his chair.

 

“Told you.” Louis muttered.

 

“And Mr. Tomlinson, I wonder who you cheated off of for this grade.”

 

Louis sat back, rolling his eyes. “I passed though didn’t I? I’m no cheater, Mr. Lars. But since I’m clearly struggling, maybe we could meet up and discuss some…after credit?” he retorted with a smirk.

 

The man stared Louis down blankly before glancing at Harry.

 

“Ah, Mr. Styles, how nice of you to finally join us. Feeling better then, are we?”

 

Harry nodded meekly.

 

“What, no words?”

 

Harry broke out into a sweat.

 

“Well, you understood him well enough, didn’t you?” Louis snarled.

 

“Relax, Mr. Tomlinson.” said the teacher, before sitting on his desk.

 

“Mr. Styles, since you were ill, I’ll excuse you missing this test. Be prepared for the next one. Find a study buddy…one that isn’t Mr. Tomlinson, and perhaps you will pass.”

 

Harry nodded, staring down at his lap.

 

“Now, for today’s lesson…”

 

Harry looked around the classroom. Mostly everyone was focused on the board except for Louis, who was texting.

 

After a while, he turned to Harry.

 

“The boy’s are coming to my house tomorrow for band practice if you wanna come, just to like, see what we do and all.”

 

 

Oh crap.

 

The _band_.

 

Harry paled. He still didn’t have an answer. He didn’t…he didn’t have an answer yet…he…

 

“I mean, you don’t have to tell us yes or no yet. I’m just inviting you to watch anyways, since you’re our friend and all.”

 

Harry’s panic stuttered to a halt.

 

Friend?

 

“Mr. Styles and Mr. Tomlinson, get out.”

 

They both looked up, before Louis glared. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Maybe by the time I see you tomorrow, the stick’ll be out of your ass,” he spat.

 

The class “ooh’d”, and Mr. Lars glared.

 

“C’mon Harry.” Louis said angrily, grabbing Harry’s arm.

 

Harry quickly reached for his bag and followed Louis out, the shorter slamming the classroom door shut behind him.

 

“What an arsehole that man is.” Louis growled out as he stomped down the hallway.

 

He looked left and right before pulling Harry into a custodian closet.

 

“Sorry, just for now until next period.” Louis mumbled.

 

There was one chair and Louis pointed to it. “You can take the chair if you’d like.”

 

Harry shook his head, opting to take the floor. Louis shrugged before sitting on the ground across from him. The closet was small and cramped, but mostly bare, lucky for them.  Few brooms and a mop were in a corner, a dingy light bulb on the ceiling, some detergent on an old shelf drilled to the wall, and the chair.

 

Louis shoulder was against his, and Harry was reeling at the close proximity the two of them were in. Louis breathed softly as he scrolled on his phone before turning to Harry and sniffing him.

 

 

“You kinda smell like Niall. Irish Springs. It’s like, a soap and deodorant he uses as a joke.”

 

 

“Probably when I manhandled you into his arms earlier.”

 

Harry blushed.

 

“Sorry about that by the way. He’s such a…” Louis trailed off, tapping the back of his phone in a nervous tick Harry had yet to see. “He’s my ex. We were um…it was an interesting relationship. We broke it off a while ago but things have been rather tense between us.”

 

Harry thought back to how aggressive they’d been towards each other, honestly ready to fist fight in the hallway. He frowned.

 

“I’m um…sorry that you almost fought again because of me.” Harry mumbled, and Louis shook his head.

 

“No, Harry, you’re not to blame. Honestly, we’ve been meaning to fight again for a while now.”

 

“Again?” Harry asked softly, playing with the end of his shirt.

 

“Yea, we fight. A lot. He hates me, I hate him, and his friends and my brothers like to fight too, so, yea.”

 

Brothers. They were an honest, happy family. What a nice thing to have.

 

“So it was honestly no problem. And I’d do it again.”

 

They turned to look at each other again, and even in the dim light, the blue of Louis’s eyes was still so mesmerizing.

 

“The bell’s about to ring. It’s better we leave while there isn’t a crowd.” Louis whispered, interrupting their stare session.

 

He stood up and offered Harry his hand. Harry hesitantly took it, hoping Louis didn’t have a problem with sweaty palms. Louis said nothing and Harry breathed a little bit easier as the two stepped out.

 

Just as Louis shut the door, the bell rang and students filed out.

 

“We have our last class together. All of us. I’ll see you then,” Louis said with a smile, turning to walk through the crowd.

 

Harry watched him go before pulling out his schedule again. He carefully, much more carefully than before, maneuvered his way through the crowd until he found the classroom number, taking a random seat at the back near the window. He gazed out of it, looking up at the sky.

 

“Hey, Green Eyes.”

 

Harry shivered, slowly turning to see Kyle standing at his desk.

 

“How lucky I am that you’re in this class,” said Kyle with a smirk, sitting down next to Harry.

 

Harry leaned away from him.

 

“So I found out your name is Harry Styles. I feel like I heard that name before.”

 

Harry felt like he was going to vomit.

 

“But that’s not important. And I’m going to keep calling you Green Eyes, if that’s alright with you.”

 

Kyle leaned closer and Harry nodded yes just so he would give him a bit more space.

 

“Great!”

 

The teacher walked in, shutting the door behind her.

 

“We’re watching a video, today,” she said.

 

“We watch one everyday,” a random kid said aloud, and she snorted before shutting the lights and popping the video in.

 

Kyle scooted closer.

 

“So tell me a bit about yourself, Green Eyes.”

 

Harry stared at the screen at the front of the classroom, entire body tense.

 

“What, don’t want to talk?” asked Kyle.

 

Harry shook his head no.

 

“Aww, alright. I’ll just try to stay quiet over here then,” he whispered.

 

What did that mean? It wasn’t until he heard a soft moan from Kyle hat he risked a glance. The jock had his hand in his pants, fondling himself.

 

Harry blanched.

 

“Care to join me?” Kyle asked, and Harry stood up, heart pounding.

 

He grabbed his stuff, biting his lip as he walked quickly to the front of the room where the teacher sat off to the side.

 

“Bathroom…please,” he whispered, nearly begging, and she shrugged, letting him out.

 

He managed to find the closet where he’d been before, shutting the door and collapsing in a heap and shuddering limbs and gasping breaths.

 

Kyle was disgusting.

 

It took Harry ages to get his breathing under control, and by then, it was time for his last class of the day. He stood up shakily, waiting until it sounded like the hallway was empty before he walked out.

 

It was fine.

 

He was almost done, and then he could go back to his room, his solace.

 

He found his way to the class, walking in.

 

Everyone turned to him. The boys were in the back.

 

“You must be Mr. Styles. Take a seat please.”

 

Niall wildly waved him over and he blushed, taking a seat.

 

“You look a little pale,” Louis whispered, “You okay?”

 

Harry nodded, not wanting to bring attention to the fact that Louis’ ex was worse than Louis probably thought.

 

“Honestly though, mate,” Niall muttered, “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

 

He felt like he was. He leaned forward and put his head on the desk.

 

“You had Mrs. Burch last period right?” Zayn asked quietly.

 

Harry sat up after a moment and nodded carefully.

 

“Kyle’s in that class.” Zayn said, leaning against the chair and grabbing Louis who’d moved to get up, parking him on his lap.

 

“Let me go,” Louis whispered angrily at Zayn, before turning to Harry. “He did something, didn’t he? What did he do?” he asked.

 

Harry shook his head, words failing him.

 

Louis said nothing for a bit before shooting up out of Zayn’s grasp, marching out of the classroom.

 

“Why do I bother?” the teacher muttered, ignoring them.

 

“Louis!” Zayn called, running after him.

 

Liam and Niall quickly followed, and Harry found himself rushing out of the classroom as well. The group was already well around a corner before Harry caught up.

 

“’et go of me, let go of me Zayn, let go!”

 

“Louis stop, listen to me-

 

“Get off, let go-

 

“Why do you care so much-

 

“You know how Kyle is! He’s nasty, he’s a nasty horrible person and look at Harry, you honestly think he stands a chance against someone like Kyle? Really?”

 

“Lou-

 

“Kyle knows exactly what to say and do, no matter how filthy he is, to get you in his bed, and-

 

“I know, babe, okay, I’m sorry, I know.” Zayn whispered, pulling Louis close.

 

Harry watched this all take place silently, and something in him clicked. He wanted this. He wanted what they had. The closeness, the way they immediately had each other’s backs, the way they cared for one another, the warmth and what looked like a lot of love they shared, and they’d given him an opportunity, after just meeting him, to possibly be apart of that.

 

He needed to be in something like this more than they could ever imagine. It might now work out but he could try…he could at least try…

 

_“Harry.”_

_“Yes daddy?”_

_“You have a voice that could change the world.”_

_Tiny green eyes peered into the warm kind ones of his father._

_“You really think so daddy?”_

_“I know so.”_

“Yes.” Harry said, and they all froze, turning to him.

 

“What?” Louis asked after a moment, still locked in Zayn’s arms.

 

“I’ll…sing, for um, you guys. I…I want to try.” Harry said, struggling to voice his wavering convictions.

 

Louis lit up in a smile.

 

They all did.

 

“Yea buddy!” yelled Niall, and Louis finally got out of Zayn’s arms, running over to Harry.

 

“Are you serious!? Harry that’s so, thanks so much, okay, we’ll, um, we’ll be really cool and we won’t make you do anything you’re super uncomfortable with, alright, and-

 

“Shush Louis.” Liam laughed, walking over and clapping Harry on the back.

 

Zayn nodded at him with a smile.

.

.

.

 

When Harry got home later, he went straight to his room, kicking off his shoes. As soon as he was about to flop onto his bed, he noticed a small packet on top of the neatly folded covers. Nervously, he picked it up, reading the words written in elegant script.

 

_Alternatives to Self-Harm_

_For Young Sir,_

_-James-_

Harry leafed through it with trembling fingers.

.

.

.

 

_~_

_I told them yes. Dad said I had something special and I want to believe him._

_I told them I would try._

_And I really will. I’ll really try, because I want what they have. I want that warmth. Everything around me is so cold all the time. Dad is gone and Mom is barely here and Gemma is away at college and it’s just me and Damian._

_I want something to look forward to besides death._

_Maybe this is it._

_~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what this is, or what it will be. I’m so sorry.


End file.
